


Memories

by bedb



Category: Black Widow - Fandom, Winter Soldier - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Finding one's self, Humor, Indian ponies and fireflies, Road Trip, Romance, Route 66 - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2015-09-07
Packaged: 2018-03-04 09:43:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3063146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bedb/pseuds/bedb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James and Natasha go on a road trip to OK to recapture the memories of his youth. Influenced by and with permission from the author, The Other Brooklyn Boy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An Arkansas Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aurora_ff](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurora_ff/gifts).



James awoke to flashing blue and red and whatever other color that was behind them. In another time and place that would have been enough to scare him into a killing rage. Not now. “How fast were you going?” he asked Natasha and sat up straight. By his watch it was close to ten. They needed to find a motel.

“Only eighty this time,” she replied and watched the officer in the rear view mirror approach her car. “Can you look upset?” she asked hopefully. James smiled. Natasha had an angle for everything. She took a ring out of her pocket and slipped it on. He took his nickel ring out of his pocket after some digging around for it and put it on.

The female trooper shined her light on Natasha’s face when she lowered the window and asked, “What’s the hurry, ma’am? And may I see some ID?”

Natasha, handing her ID to the trooper, responded. “I’m sorry officer. How fast was I going?”

“You passed me going ninety-two. Wait a minute while I call this in.”

James waited until the trooper was out of ear shot and then turned to Natasha saying, “Ninety-two?”

“Still not the hundred and ten they clocked me at in eastern in Pennsylvania,” she reminded him.

“For which I’m truly thankful,” he remarked somewhat sardonically. He glanced in the rear view mirror and watched as the trooper called in Natasha’s fake driver license. For this trip he had a matching one indicating he was her husband. While not mentioning SHIELD, the IDs were set to identify them as hush hush government employees. Unarrestable, but certainly ticketable.

“Remember, dear, we are going to the funeral of your favorite Uncle Wade who passed away suddenly in Oklahoma City,” she said as the trooper returned.

“Should I gnash my teeth and wail bitterly?” he asked with a chuckle.

“Only if there’s no other recourse,” Natasha replied and lowered the window again. This time the light flashed over James. “And you are?”

“James Wade,” he answered and squinted under the light.

The officer grunted and turned her attention back to Natasha. “Why so fast, ma’am?”

“We are on our way to Oklahoma City to attend a funeral. I didn’t realize how fast I was going. My apologies.”

“I’m going to give you a warning this time,” the trooper said and once more let her light flash over James. If Natasha couldn’t smooth talk the trooper, maybe James’ ‘I’m so lost’ face could win her over. 

“I do appreciate that,” Natasha replied humbly. Looking at the woman’s name badge, she smiled and asked, “Could you tell me where the nearest motel is, Officer Dwight.”

“Five miles straight ahead. Mind your speed now, ma’am.”

“Thank-you,” Natasha replied gratefully and rolled the window back up. “I think I like Arkansas.”

James laughed and folded his arms across his chest. “Let’s see if we can find this motel without breaking anymore speed limits there Jimmie Johnson.”

“I don’t know who that is, so calling me that name was pointless,” she retorted and pulled back on the highway. With Officer Dwight following them, she decided to play it extra careful and go five miles per hour below the speed limit. The bored trooper flashed her lights and circled them for another call. “It really is dark,” Natasha commented more to herself than him.

“Yeah, I missed the dark when we had to move to New York after Dad was hurt.”

Natasha glanced at him in the mirror but didn’t say anything. This was his trip down memory lane, and if anyone needed to stroll it, it was her poor wounded James. She had Cap on speed dial if needed, but she was pretty sure James was not going to go south on her, although in all honesty she was enjoying the South so far. 

Why they had even stopped at Graceland in Memphis. That was actually for her. Although ridiculed as an immoral capitalist, yes, the Red Room was not adverse to calling Elvis Presley immoral, he was the number one bootlegged American musician in Russia when she was training for the KGB. James did not remember their mission to Berlin or listening to Hound Dog on a jukebox. Or dancing to Wooden Heart in a darkened club. Or making love to Love Me Tender playing on a small transistor radio. Yes, this was his stroll down memory lane.

“I think that’s our motel, unless you want to go on to Little Rock tonight,” she said and slowed the car.

“No, this is fine,” James said as he looked over the American Owned and Operated Woodpecker Motel. A large neon sign of a woodpecker on a piece of tree glowed off and on over the office. “You want to get it or me?” he asked as she drove into the check-in parking spot.

“You can get it,” she said with a quick kiss and smile.

He climbed out of the corvette and walked up to the window. A bell brought an African American gentleman up to the glass, his smile framed by a graying beard. There was a form to fill out and a credit card and driver’s license to hand over.

“New York’s a long way from Honesty,” the night clerk remark casually.

“On our way to Oklahoma,” James answered with a smile. All Southern people were politely nosey there being absolutely no such a thing as a secret in a small Southern town. “So did they ever find the woodpecker?”

The man flashed a perfect white toothed grin and said, “Nah, but it’s out there. Why Arkansas is a land of mysterious creatures: the woodpecker, the Boggy Creek bigfoot, the White River critter and Bill Clinton.” He laughed at his own joke and handed James his ID and credit card back along with a room key. “Number 18, just down from the ice and soda machines.” 

“Thank-you,” James said and returned the ID and card to his wallet. 

Natasha drove to the allotted parking space and then popped the small trunk to get their single suitcase out. A few things in the back seat where also taken out and then traded. James carried the suitcase up stairs. The room was neat and clean with a single king sized bed and a restroom off to the right of the bed. Natasha turned on the air conditioner and was pleased that it didn’t take long to blow out cold air. As per arrangements, she got the shower whenever she wanted it and he took one in the morning. This didn’t mean that he didn’t enter the bathroom to brush his teeth or to ogle her in the shower. Or climb in with her if she invited him to. And it was a wonder how much soap was needed to clean her breasts or his body in general. Fortunately cold water forced them out before it became anymore intense. Except the room was now frosty cold.

Natasha jumped for the covers and crawled under them. “Turn it off,” she said with a laugh and pulled the covers up to her chin. He bent over the air conditioner, giving her a lovely view of his tight ass, and turned it off.

“Now I’m cold,” he shuddered and ran to get in beside her. Natasha knew just how to warm him up and planted a ripe kiss on his lips, while he warmed his hands on her breasts and toyed with her nipples. “Are you nice and clean?” he asked softly sounding like a cross between a purr and a growl.

“You washed me,” she gasped as he trailed his warm hand down her belly.

“True, but I don’t know if I did a good job,” he said and rose on his hands and knees over her, the blanket clinging to his back. Moving between her legs, he made himself comfortable and ran the side of his face over her lower abdomen. “You smell so good,” he said in that same throaty purr/growl. Natasha almost jumped out of her skin when his tongue sliced her tender flesh and stroked the core of her being. She grabbed his shoulders and closed her eyes as he took his time bringing her to a muscle crunching orgasm.

 

When he raised his head, his chin wet from her juices, a feral gleam burned in his eyes. He crawled back up the bed to her lips and kissed her with a hunger that went bone deep. Still on his hands and knees, his body was open for her to caress and touch, he shuddered when she ran her hands down the long hard length of him. No timid lovers, they embraced the violence of their lives and gave vent to it in their lovemaking. She would use tooth and nail on his perfect body; he would drive her with cock and tongue, and neither would surrender until the fire melted within his beautiful eyes, usually with her on top, supporting herself with her hands on the heavy meat of his breast. He was the most dangerous man on the planet and belonged to her.

Completely spent he drew her perfect body into his arms and held her protectively at his side. She was his life and sanity and no one ever loved her more than he. That he was certain of, because no man ever needed a woman’s love more than he. Sleep, dear God he loved sleep, descended on him like a warm blanket. Natasha waited until she was sure he was asleep and then got up to take another shower. It was a girl thing; James could sleep with a month’s worth of mud plastered on his body.


	2. A man loved thoroughly by his woman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their last day in Arkansas....probably would have gone quicker if they didn't stop to buy cowboy hats or eat....or make love.

Natasha loaded the car while James took a shower. When he came down they’d drop off the keys and head out, but knowing how he’d want breakfast, she decided to stop at the front desk and inquire about the closest café.

The woman at the desk was a large generous face African American woman with a name badge that said Lucille. “Good morning,” she greeted Natasha. “Did you sleep well, honey?” And she sounded like Queen Latifah. 

“Very well, thank-you,” Natasha replied and returned the smile, although maybe without as much enthusiasm. “I was wondering if you could tell me where the closest café was that served breakfast.”

“Oh that’s easy to tell, “Lucille answered and waved her hand. “Just go down the road two miles and you’ll run right into Miss Ruby’s diner. No one makes hotcakes and fried eggs like Miss Ruby.”

“Well then, that’s where we’ll go,” Natasha said and turned around as James entered the outer office with the keys. “This darling lady has informed me that Miss Ruby’s Diner is the place to go for breakfast.”

“Excellent,” he said and slipped the keys under the glass. “I’m starved.” He smiled at Lucille, who seemed duly impressed. “Have a good day, Lucille,” he said with a wink and followed Natasha outside.

She knew he couldn’t help himself, but she had to ask him anyway, “Are you going to flirt all the way across country.”

Climbing into the driver’s seat, slipping on a pair of expensive shades, he grinned at his ladylove and said, “Probably.” 

Rather than get irritated or even make a comment, Natasha leaned over, left hand folded over his crotch and kissed his cheek. Drawing back, looking evil and wicked and heart- breakingly beautiful, she smiled and said, “So long as it knows who owns it.”

James looked down and said, “You hear that?” Natasha couldn’t help but laugh. It always tickled her when he talked to his penis. He leaned back over and rested his head against her shoulder. “He wants to know if we might get the key back for another hour or two.”

“You are too easily distracted. I thought you were hungry,” she admonished him.

James sat up straight, looked down again and said, “She says no.” 

Just for the fun of it, Natasha pulled out her phone and took a picture of James starting the Vette. She sent Steve the photo to go along with all the other photos she’d sent him  
of their journey across America in search of the boy Bucky Barnes. She added ‘having a conversation with something other than me’.   
He texted back, ‘do I want to know?’

To which she responded ‘probably not.’

The parking lot at Miss Ruby’s Diner was full of farm trucks, old and new. The arrival of the corvette did catch a few eyes. A friendly faced African American woman who bore a strong resemblance to the woman at the motel met them at the door and said, “Welcome to Miss Ruby’s. We’ve been waiting for you.”

Natasha glanced back at James and asked, “CIA?”

“CAT….call ahead and tell.”

“Are you related….” Natasha did not get to finish.

“She’s my cousin Bertha, and you met my Uncle Willie last night. And I’m Modine,” their waitress said and placed a couple of menus on the table.

Natasha looked at the menu but James kept his eyes on the waitress. A gentle memory from long ago was tugging at his thoughts, a woman in a kitchen with a dark face and a broad smile. She had worked for someone he knew. “What do you recommend?” he asked.

“How hungry are you?” she asked with a big grin.

“Very.”

Natasha peeked at him over the menu. He had a way of speaking sometimes that left multiple meanings for words. He slid his eyes towards her and she knew she was right. Good ole boy James was having two conversations at once. His friend had better behave himself or he was going to get the armchair when they stopped again for the night.

“Well,” Modine began, “for the real hungry man, we have the grand breakfast platter. Three hot cakes, three fried eggs, grits with red eye gravy, biscuits with real butter, fried meat and all the coffee you can drink. For the ladies wanting to watch their figures, we leave off the gravy and have English muffins instead of biscuits. Oh, and don’t let me forget, home made jellies by Miss Ruby herself.”

“That’ll work, and she’ll take the same, except you can add English muffins.”

“Grits and gravy too?”

“Absolutely.”

Natasha dropped the menu without contradicting him. Once Modine was out of earshot, if that was truly possible, she asked, “What are grits?”  
“Corn.”

“Let me guess, what I don’t eat, you’ll finish off?”

Natasha sent Steve a picture of James finishing off her breakfast platter. After breakfast which included a very nice tip, the Romanov/Barnes expedition continued towards Little Rock, where they stopped at a western store and cowboyed up. Natasha sent Steve a picture of James in his new black jeans, boots and hat. Although she also grabbed some new jeans and a hat, she found a western skirt that was both sexy and modest. Add a double breasted blouse and jacket and she was ready for boot scootin’.

Steve liked her outfit but wondered if she was up for boot scootin’. Steve also said she needed to keep Bucky away from any cows, which of course she did not understand. Why would James even want to be near cows? They smelled awful and made horrible noises, and the ones she had seen so far were rather dumb looking. 

Natasha thought they’d hit the interstate and run into OK south of Muskogee, but James had other ideas. He headed towards Fayetteville. “Razorback fan, are we?” she asked as they drove into the Ozark Mountains.

“They’re OK,” he answered with a wry smile. He knew where he was going, although it was close to a hundred years or more since he had last here with his family. Reaching Fayetteville late in the afternoon, he found a motel for the night.

“How far are we from where we are going?” she asked as they unloaded the car.

“An hour or so, but we need camping supplies, and I can’t be sure anything will be open in Tahlequah when we get there.”

“And what is a Tahlequah?” she asked and followed him up the stairs to the room closest to the stairs.

“Heart of the Cherokee nation. Dad took us camping there the year before he got hurt and we had to leave.”

“Will we be stopping at all your old camping sites?” she asked as he unlocked the door and pushed it open. A large velvet Elvis on the wall greeted them….thank-you very much. Natasha texted Steve a picture of it. 

‘I’ll paint one for you if you want one’ he texted back.

‘No thank-you’

She stopped and looked around. James was undressing. “Are you finished flirting with Steve?” he asked curiously as he unbuckled his belt. 

“Yes,” she answered, her eyes on the flawed perfection that was her lover.

“This is a college town. I thought we’d check out the scene, if you’d like,” he offered and crawled across the bed to sit behind her. Kissing the back of her neck while cupping her breast with his right hand, he growled, “ But first….” Natasha closed her eyes and smiled.

 

Climbing out of the shower, Natasha reached for the towel and stepped into the main room to find her lover asleep without a cover or sheet over him. When you are being feasted upon or feasting upon, you don’t really stop to admire the clear beauty of your lover. Since he was sated and knew in his subconscious that she was in the room, he would not be disturbed if she sat on the bed beside him and watched a little TV. He stirred a moment but then settled down beside her. Natasha gazed affectionately at him and wondered if Steve could paint her a picture of him.

Half paying attention to the Little Rock channel, she smiled and imagined a psychoanalyst would have a field day with her. What kind of man are you attracted to? Wounded killers. The more damaged the better. I want to save them. Why? Because the first love of my life was one. Now that I have him back I will never let him go.

Natasha sat up and gazed at James’ feet. Her perfect lover needed his toenails clipped. So he was a little flawed. What did they say about perfect beings? They bring on the jealousy of the gods. She wanted to run her hand over his body, but that would disturb him and she had just taken a shower.

“Libido, James. Do you even know what that means?”

“I like sex with you?”

“Didn’t you have sex the two years you were on your own?”

“Not really.”

“I don’t understand.”

“No, I didn’t.”

It was true some people didn’t need or want it, but James was the most carnal man that she knew. The only thing that distracted him from thinking about it 24/7 was perceived danger. At least that was her belief. They could be fighting for their lives, and she would look at him and find him watching her with ‘that look’ in his eyes. If she had allowed it, they would have fucked in the cooling blood of their enemies. And that was the gist of their relationship. He would follow her to hell if she told him to, but she never told him anything except maybe the occasional “no, not now.” And while he might give her his best disappointed face, he never pushed it. 

She finally got his head in her lap and gently stroked his scalp while watching the news. On the spur of the moment, she took a picture of him lying on his side with his head in her lap and sent it to Steve. Nothing pornographic, although Steve was not a prude, at least where THEY were concerned. He got over that pretty quick once she and James became lovers. Paint this for me. With languid eyes gazing up at me and a soft smile on his lips, with the pure contentment on his face of a man thoroughly loved by his woman.

"You need to take shower so we can go eat, then go dancing,: she said and kissed his forehead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fayetteville is closer to OK than Little Rock, but eastern OK at night goes to bed with the chickens. It is beautiful and mountainous.


	3. Bad Good Ole Boys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James and Natasha have a run in with the klan

James and Natasha went bar hopping in their new cowboy duds after super at IHOP, which proved a big source of amusement to Natasha who noticed that for the most part, they were the only ones wearing cowboy hats. When a bartender or waitress asked where they were from James would drawl, “Oklahoma.”

“Just vistin’?”

“Headed home.”

Natasha never interrupted James’ impromptu trips into fantasyland. He was so cute when he lied to one of the girls waiting on their table. And she knew better than to get jealous. James would die before he let anyone know that he was once Hydra’s pet assassin, and the arm was sort of a give away.

Continuing their bar crawl, Natasha couldn’t help but notice that she had seen the same face at the last two bars they had visited. If she had noticed the man; James had also noticed him. “Who do you think he is?” she asked curiously as they entered the next pub down the street.

“I have an idea,” he answered quietly. Natasha gave him a curious glance but didn’t say anything more. He was on alert and being cautious. Finding seats so they could sit with their backs to the wall, they drank some wine spritzers while listening to a very good blues band. When the man who was following them made his appearance and took a seat near the door, he was joined by a second man. They spent the entire set staring at Natasha, even watching her when she went to the restroom.

James was pretty sure he knew who the two men were, and he didn’t like it one bit. When he had lived in OK as a boy, he had seen cross burnings all over state, and while they still existed, he had come to the conclusion that they were now just toothless tigers. Maybe he was wrong, and why were they so interested in Natasha?

When Natasha came out of the restroom, one of the men got up and stopped her. “You need to get out of Arkansas, bitch. We don’t want no commie whores in our state.”

“Ah, you saw my visit to the House Intelligence Committee,” she said with a dry smile. “Or should we call it the House Unintelligent Committee?” She glimpsed James standing up out of the corner of her eye, but he was waiting for her to signal him that she needed his help.

“You makin’ fun of America?” the man menaced her and grabbed her arm. Mistake. She put the thug on the floor so quick he only had time to grab his crunched balls before James was beside Natasha daring the other man with a warning glare to try anything stupid.

There had been a time when the Royal Brothers of the Sacred White Sheet ran rough shod over everyone, but those days were over. Everyone in the bar had seen him grab Natasha, and no one was going to fault her for defending herself, but they still needed to leave. Klansmen traveled in packs like hungry dogs, and they’d be coming after Natasha now to put her in her place.

“We need to go,” he said and stayed between her and the other man, who was on his cell phone talking angrily to someone. Wasting no time, they hurried back to the Vette and started her up. “Take us some place remote,” he said and got into the passenger seat. Natasha knew he didn’t consider her the superior driver, which meant only one thing, he was about to take on the Sacred Sheets of the Klu Klux Klan. On Star gave her a location and she took off for it while James reached behind her seat and dug out a duffle bag.

“We’ve got five trucks chasing us,” she warned him as he opened the bag pulled out his vest. It took a little doing to get it on, but once he had it locked down, he dug into the bag for his modified mask and goggles, courtesy of Tony Starks selling abilities. 

“It’s psychological,” he had insisted. “The ultimate bogie man, but I’ve made some improvements.” 

The goggles could do everything now even see through walls if he wanted using thermal imaging. A range finder and night vision were included, all remotely connected to the mask, which now did more than just hide his face. The microchip imbedded in the left cheek piece controlled the goggles, and all he had to do was touch one of the small discs to change the image. In the event he ran into a gas that might be lethal to a super soldier, a disc on his right cheek turned the mask into a highly proficient gas mask. It was even possible to drink with the mask on, providing the straw was strong enough to open the closed hole over his mouth. Nothing like freaking out the clerk at the Seven Eleven at two in the morning taking it out for a test run with Tony. 

With the space in the Vette being too cramped for full battle gear, and the extra protection it provided, James left the goggles on normal light and glanced back at the trucks following them. “Are we almost there?” he asked while regretting they had no weapons aside from knives on them. 

Natasha turned down a well used dirt road that ended at a water treatment plant. Turning the car to face the trucks, she left the motor running and the lights on bright to get out with James. “Let me know if you need help,” she said and leaned against the hood of the car. “Oh wait a minute,” she stopped him. “Back up.” He obeyed and glanced over his left shoulder imaging that maybe he needed to reattach a strap or something. No, she just wanted to slip her hands in his rear pockets and knead his butt. “I’ve been wanting to do that all night,” she told him.

The trucks pulled up and lined up behind each other. “Save that thought,” he said and moved away from her, the lights of the Vette at his back and the light from the lead pick up glowing in his eyes.

The two men in the lead truck stared at the apparition before them and growled, “What the fuck?” The driver stepped on the gas and made to run James over, but just before he and the truck made contact, James slammed the metal arm into the left head light and turned the truck around. The passenger found himself staring into the black mask of a man who had just turned their truck with a single blow from his….oh my fucking god! Thet arm ain’t real! 

The moment the door handle came within arm reach, James grabbed it and pulled the entire door off. As much as he wanted to cause them some serious pain, they were civilians and it might not go down good if he killed any of them. Forget the fuck that they were trying to kill him. Using the door like a Frisbee, he threw it into the windshield of the next truck.

Natasha couldn’t hide her smile. James was showing off for her, how sweet. Jumping into the bed of the truck and coming out on the other side, he attacked the driver, yanking his door open and pulling him out. A solid punch to the face with his real fist put the man on the ground. When the passenger tried to make a run for it, he caught him in five steps and knocked him out.

Unfortunately while James was playing only to cause some minor damage, the men in the trucks were more serious. Someone brought out a shotgun. It was single shot, thankfully, and the man fired it point blank at James midsection. Arm and Kevlar took the brunt of the blast. Thoroughly enraged now, James went after the man and snatched the shot gun out of his hands. With all the righteous fury of an avenging angel, James slammed the weapon against a sturdy pine tree and wrapped it around the trunk. Playtime was over. James went after each man with a vengeance and beat him senseless. He also took his wrath out on their trucks, disabling them with blows to the lights and roving steering wheels and tossing them into the bushes.

Only when he started walking back towards her did she notice that he was hurt, his hand pressing against his lower abdomen. Running to help him, she lent him her shoulder and eased him back into the passenger seat. With careful hands removed the mask and goggles and tossed them in the back seat. Running her hands down the vest, she felt the pellets imbedded in the leather. The injury was below the vest. She could feel the moist hot blood. There were pellets buried under his skin.

Leaving the scene of battle, she drove back to town and found a CVS pharmacy that was open. She bought two sets of tweezers, some peroxide and bandages. James was in no danger of dieing but bird shot to the gut hurt like hell.

Getting him back to the motel, she removed his boots and jeans and carefully peeled off his bloody underwear. He lay back on the bed and let her doctor him without complaint. Most of the damage was just below the Kevlar, but needing to make sure she knew where all the pellets were, she ran her hands over his thighs and found a couple buried in the muscle. Then very carefully she examined his penis and testicles. There was some blood on them, but she found no wound.  
“The boys look OK,” she said and moved to get James out of the vest before she went to work removing the pellets from his body. 

He laid perfectly still as she used tweezers to get the pellets out of his body. Natasha knew this had to be hurting him, but she guessed he’d suffered worse things in the past than this and was being a big boy about it. It also helped her that he wasn’t making any noise. The least whimper and she wouldn’t have been able to force the lips of the wounds apart and dig for the shot. Using peroxide, she cleaned off the blood and checked him over carefully to make sure she had them all. A dressing would keep dirt out of them and any seepage off the bed. 

Washing the blood out of the towels that she had used, she hung them over the shower door. Returning to James, she found him laying higher up on the bed. Using the utmost care she got the covers out from under him and got him situated before undressing and crawling in with him. He was too uncomfortable to think about sex, but he did lay his head on her shoulder and cup her left breast possessively. He went to sleep with Natasha watching TV while stroking his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a lot of people like throwing the word klan around at people they disagree with, but the real Klan was a monster that descent people in the South feared also. They still exist but as the old song went....the times they are a changing. In 1979 I protested a Klan rally in Gulfport, MS, Scared the bejeebies out of me, but I did it because someone needed to....I was by myself. Fear finally got the better of me and i left.


	4. fireflies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James and Natasha arrive and spend their first day in Oklahoma

James got up before Natasha while it was still dark and took a shower. Being under the steaming water felt good and running his hand over his lower abdomen he found the skin smooth and blemish free. Hearing the door open, he glanced around and smiled as Natasha joined him.

“Hot water hog,” she teased and did her own visual inspection of his abdomen. He looked good, but she needed to run her hands over his skin to make sure he was all right. “So what are our plans today?” she finally asked and stood up straight.

He smiled and said, “Tonight we go camping.”

Natasha moved closer, almost touching, and laid her hand upon his left breast, and then slowly tapped his nipple with her well manicured finger, the way one did on a desk when someone annoyed them. Only he wasn’t a desk, and what she was doing was…stimulating. “James.”

“Yes ma’am?”

“Don’t speak, just listen.” Now she circled it with that long manicured finger. “Do you remember Vladivostok?” She cocked a brow and realized that she had told him not to say anything. “You may speak.”

He thought about it and then answered, “Vaguely.”

“Well, I remember it like yesterday,” she continued. “It was bitter cold and wet and uncomfortable and wet, and miserable.” She went back to impatiently tapping his nipple. “I said I would never of my own free will ever sleep under those conditions again.”

“It’s June,” he reminded her.

She pinched his nipple now. “That’s not the point, James.” Feeling a spray of cool water, she said, “Turn the water off, it’s getting cold.” He complied. “Now where was I?”

“You were getting me horny.”

She arched a fine brow of disapproval and retorted, “ Was I? I thought we were discussing the reasons why I do not want to sleep in a tent.”

“You were discussing that,” he agreed as she did another twist of his sensitive nipple. “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

“James, you must pay attention,” she chastised him. “Come, let’s get out of here.”

Once they were out of the shower, he started crowding her, backing her towards the bed. “Nat,” he began, “I promise you won’t get wet or cold, that we won’t be sleeping on the ground or eating whatever it was that we found.” She fell back on the bed looking up at him as he crawled over her. “I promise you that you will see something magical,” he added and planted a light kiss on her lips. “You will have fun,” and he kissed her left breast and nipple. “And I will take care of you,” and he paid a little extra attention to her right breast and nipple. 

“You promise?” Natasha asked with a closed eye sigh when his dark head did not rise from her breast. He moaned something before rising up, wrapping his arm around her waist and moving her higher on the bed. He resumed his worship of her body. Running her fingers through his hair, she smiled and said, “You really are a slut.”

Throwing his head up, giving her an impatient look, he growled, “Yes. Now concentrate or I’m just going to fuck you.”

 

The drive into eastern Oklahoma was really very pretty. In some ways it reminded Natasha of a step back in time to when the old TV show about Mayberry might have been real. James, who was driving, appeared to be looking for things he recognized.

“More houses now, fewer dirt roads,” he said as they came to an intersection that was new to him. One road went north where he planned on spending the night, the main one went into town, and another one acted as a bypass. He didn’t want to bypass anything and drove into town. “It was much smaller than this when I was here last,” he said as they passed the Cherokee college now Northeastern State. The only things he recognized were the old main hall of the college and the courthouse, both from a time even before he was a boy. 

Like a time traveler lost in a memory, James parked the car and got out. The main street that wound up to the university was not as old as he was, but there were traces of that other time still in a few of the buildings. And he was remembering. Natasha dug out her cell phone and took a quick picture of James looking down the street towards the college. “One of our destinations,” she texted. She didn’t tell Steve about their run-in with the Klan or James getting shot.

Hitting the visitor’s bureau at the old courthouse along with a map of the town...not to mention Natasha found its web page on the internet, they decided to drive over to the Cherokee Village before grabbing some camping gear and heading up to Sparrowhawk. The museum was beautiful with artwork and artifacts from several tribes present. Natasha learned about The Trail of Tears and was invited to attend the outdoor drama that the museum put on in the summer. Of course being Russian tourists who were going to buy some souvenirs and visit the rest of the village helped.

“Come back tonight for the drama, or come see the casino,” the pleasant woman told Natasha’s whose eyes brightened at the thought of see the Trail of Tears drama. Feeling James’ frustration with that idea, she leaned conspiratorially towards the woman and said with her heaviest accent, “My husband has his heart set on a tent on the ground. We don’t have such things in Mother Russia.” She threw him a smile.

Natasha spent over a hundred dollars on things she didn’t need including some shirts for Steve and Sam and a shawl for herself. After paying for her souvenirs, Natasha asked the woman, “How do you say thank-you in Cherokee?”

“Wa-do.”

“I like that. Wa-do.” 

“How do you say thank-you in Russian?”

“Spasibo.”

“Spasibo.” 

After putting her prizes in the vette’s trunk, they wandered around the village, watched a long haired young man use a blow gun, passed through buildings that came from other places, discovered that there were piney woods cattle and Indian ponies, pigs that S were rare and even bison on the grounds. The cows were smallish and colorful. The Indian ponies were also small but beautiful, and it was hard to get excited over hogs.

Lunch was at a steak house and then it was off to Walmart for camping gear. They were at the campgrounds by early afternoon. If they hurried they could catch the last canoe float out. Natasha just stayed out of the way while James put up the tent. He had it up and ready to go by the time the guide called for them.

“So you did this with your dad?” she asked as he paddled them slowly down the shallow river. She was sitting in the bottom of the canoe on a pad with him directly behind her.

“Yes,” he answered with a smile. “The canoe was made out of skin not polyurethane back then.”

They arrived at a place that was wide and faced a jagged cliff. It was shaded and cool. “Was it like this back then?” she asked dreamily.

“Pretty much,” he answered and remembered something. “A small snake was swimming towards us,” he related to her. “We thought it wanted to get in the canoe, and Becky was sitting in the middle and having a fit.” He laughed softly as he remembered his sister’s screams. “Mom wasn’t too happy about it either”

“So you and your dad were doing the paddling?” Natasha asked dreamily as they slipped through the small canyon to see rolling countryside ahead of them. She was using James’ crotch for a backrest. He didn’t seem to mind.

“Yes. It was nice, the men of the house with the women folk between us.”

“Aw, how quaint, women folk. Am I your woman folk?” she asked with a grin and looked up at him with love in her eyes.

“You are at that,” he agreed. “Thanks for coming with me.”

The rest of the canoe trip was quiet as Natasha drank in the beauty of the countryside and James wandered back in time. There was a sweet melancholy in his heart as he wished that things had been different, that he could have lived the life of a normal man, but then he would have never met this magnificent woman who loved him as much as he loved her. Making love to her was as close as one could get to worshiping. God, he couldn’t believe he was thinking about that silly song. 

The sky was bleeding red in the west when they arrived at their campgrounds. James couldn’t help himself. Standing on the water’s edge, he drew the love of his life into his arms and kissed her. Someone on the bank above shouted “must be newly weds”. He grinned when she parted from him. Taking his hand in hers they headed back to their campsite. 

“So beenie-weenies?” she asked with a sly grin on her face.

“Or the rib eyes I bought,” he countered. “We cut the potatoes into sections and sprinkle on some olive oil and heat up the garlic toast.”

“I love it when you talk meat and potatoes,” she teased and unfolded the lawn chair to sit in. “And the view is very nice too. Oh, pass the ice chest.” The view was him starting up the campsite grill, the ice chest held the small single serving wines that they had stocked up on. Dixie cups stood in for wine glasses.

A Caesar’s salad from the Walmart deli completed the main meal, which was actually quite good on paper plates. Dessert, which only James ate, was a piece of cake topped with vanilla ice cream. 

Once it was dark, he took a walk while she dozed lightly by the fire pit. A short while later he ran back and grabbed her hand. “Come!” he exclaimed and pulled her to her feet. Natasha didn’t know what was so urgent but he was dragging her back towards the river. He stopped short on the edge of a cliff, the water swirling down below, and pointed. It took Natasha a moment to realize that in front of her were millions of tiny lights blinking on and off just beyond her finger tips.

“Fireflies, Nat,” James explained. “Millions of them. Just like back then.”

Natasha had never seen so many fireflies in one place…so many any things in one place. Not even the lights of Times Square could match the brilliance of these small life forms. She looked back at James, the flickering light of someone’s campfire accentuating the sharp lines of his face. His eyes were glowing and a broad grin creased his face. In his lost world he had found something that had not changed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the fireflies on the Illinois River are a wonder of nature. Nowhere have I ever seen so many of them.
> 
> Next Route 66.


	5. The tornado

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spook light road was a bust, but the tornado more than made up for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Potter is strictly fictional

Natasha was pretty sure that Spook Light Road was going to be a bust, but James was having fun trading stories with the kids from the junior college in Miami and the two Quapaw boys who were out looking to pick up college girls. A haunted dark road, just the place to meet girls. Male optimism sprang eternal.

Jim, the older of the two Quapaw boys, regaled them with Civil War era ghost stories, about bad men from Missouri and outlaws riding through eastern Oklahoma on their way to Texas. Natasha didn’t know how much of Jim’s tale was actual lore or the retelling of Outlaw Josie Wales, but the kid did tell a good yarn. What made this unique in her eyes was the fact the kids knew who James was, who he had been, and were sympathetic. One of the girls even flirted with him and wanted to touch his arm. Natasha paid it no mind, although James did throw her an awkward smile when the kids all decided they wanted to touch the arm. She was engaged in a wild text-messaging spree with Tony, who apparently was bored shitless with Pepper in London on business. 

“So you really are like one hundred years old?” Jim asked curiously, “and with a hot babe, too?”

Natasha keeping her eyes on her cell phone smiled and decided Jim was absolutely brilliant. 

“Yeah, I suppose so,” James admitted with a big grin.

“So why are you here?” the other Quapaw boy Bill asked curiously.

“I once lived in Oklahoma, a long time ago.”

“How long?” one of the college girls asked.

“Almost a hundred years ago,” James answered. “I lived outside of Oklahoma City,”

Natasha’s phone beeped, alerting her to a developing weather report. “There’s a storm moving this way. Maybe it’s time we return to the motel before we get wet.” 

“But we haven’t seen the spook light,” James whined over the giggles of the girls.

“No matter, time to leave,” Natasha persisted. “Go home, kids.” She climbed into the driver’s seat of the corvette while James slipped through the window on the passenger side. Natasha shook her head in amusement and started the car up. There were no side roads anywhere near so she just turned the car around in the middle of the lane. James waved at his new friends.

Potter, Miami, Baxter Springs and Joplin made a square at the four corners of Oklahoma, Missouri, Kansas and Arkansas. The Travel Lodge they were staying at was in Potter just to the northwest of Miami. After a day of driving all over northeastern Oklahoma eating regional cuisine, Natasha was being nice when she texted Steve, stopping on a road and staring at grass, lots of grass, way too much grass. Natasha had a city girl’s heart when it came to grass. And seeing buffalo! They were not as large as she had imagined, but they were still impressive, great shaggy beasts that stopped grazing in that sea of grass to stare at the two people standing by the reinforced metal fence.

“There weren’t this many when I was a kid,” James had said and leaned against the iron bar fence. “It’s nice to see them.”

“Were you a cowboy when you were a kid?” Natasha asked and affectionately rubbed his shoulder.

“Nah,” he admitted with a grin, “but I did sometimes see Indian boys on their ponies. I envied them.” She knew he played the piano and loved baseball, although his team didn’t really exist anymore, and she sometimes wondered what else had the young Mr. Barnes loved. Fireflies were now on the list. Lots and lots of fireflies. 

He was in such a good mood he undressed her with his teeth, which tickled her to no ends. “It’s hard being romantic when you are laughing,” he scolded.

“How is this romantic?” she asked and wrapped her arms around his neck. 

“I thought you would appreciate the skill it takes to undo a button with just your teeth and tongue,” he explained and undid the next button on her blouse with his fingers exposing the top of her breasts. He eased the blouse back exposing the pale blue lace. He could be fiery and dangerous or soft and gentle, depending on his mood. Right now he was gentle and silly. Smiling he unhooked the front snap. Natasha had learned the hard way to not buy bras that snapped in the back. Pausing to worship at the twin alters of her femininity, damn now he had her thinking that way, he sucked on her nipples until she was writhing with need. Once, just to prove a point, he had gotten her off by just by sucking her tits. Not this time. Flipping him over, she stared down into his wicked boy face and then planted a kiss on his nose. When was she going to learn to not underestimate a man with a breast obsession? Not that she really minded. However she also enjoyed watching him come apart at the seams, and his nipples were as sensitive as hers, particularly his left one, the nerves in his pectoral spliced open to support the movement of a robotic arm.

Sitting up with his hands cupping her breasts, her fingers kneading his, she tossed her hair back and smiled wickedly. They were in Oklahoma, home of cowboys and Indians, and the stallion beneath her was every bit as beautiful as any majestic steed ridden by John Wayne or Roy Rogers. With a sensuous roll of her belly she took her gorgeous steed up to a slow canter. He shivered with need and broke into a slick sweat; this would only last so long. He wanted to run, to stretch his long limbs and drink the wind. 

She came apart imaging the fucking she was about to get. Damn he was a good ride. Her stallion his cock still hard inside of her sat up without losing her and flipped her over. For one brief moment he stared into her passion-flushed face and smiled. What man did not want to see that look in the eyes of his woman? Keeping her left hand on his breast, she wrapped her legs around his waist and closed her eyes. He fucked her to another orgasm, but that was to be expected. He was that good. 

Her attention returned to him when he collapsed against her, his face hidden in her hair. Not a sound, not even a whimper caressed her ear. He was never going to break THAT conditioning. Stroking his head she readied herself for the kiss she knew was coming. Always deep and slow and passionate, then it was lights out and sleep. She never begrudged him falling asleep after sex. How many lifetimes had he gone without either?

It wasn’t hard for her to join him tonight. After a hot shower, she crawled under the covers with him and passed out. It was her phone playing Black Sabbath’s Iron Man that woke her and James. Reaching for it, she placed it to her ear and answered, “Yes?”

“You should be hearing sirens shortly,” Tony responded on the other side. “You have a tornado coming your way.” 

James jumped for his clothes as the sirens began their desperate yell for people to get to cover. Grabbing his phone, he pulled up the weather. “Fuck!” he cursed. “Nat, it’s bad. Real bad.”

“Talk later, Tony,” she exclaimed and turned the phone off. Jumping up she dressed faster than she had in Bangkok in ’70 when the US Army was after her. What few things they had James had already thrown into a bag. “Where do we go?” she asked him and yanked the door open.

“Interior building,” he answered and looked down the exterior walkway at the heads popping out of their rooms. “Get down stairs!” he yelled at them. “Get down there now!”

Natasha ran for the steps but over the sirens she heard screams in the dark. Through the unyielding curtain of rain a solitary street lamp flickered against the approaching disaster. James heard it to and said, “Horses. There’s a barn over there.”

Truck lights turned off the abandoned street into a parking area beside the barn. A person climbed out and ran into the building. Natasha didn’t hesitate. The horses would not have a chance if left in the barn. James dutifully ran after her and actually beat her to the stables. Without asking by your leave or may I, he started throwing stall doors open while Natasha shooed the animals outside. Horses were herd animals and would stay together and run as far and as fast as they could against the monster tornado that was bearing down on them. 

The other person was a young woman. She joined James in freeing the last of the horses. Natasha, following the storm on her phone, looked at them and said, “We need shelter now.”

“There’s a ditch over here,” the woman said and ran back outside. Neither Avenger hesitated, although the ditch was filling rapidly with water. Natasha turned and in the flashes of lightning she saw a black cloud filled the sky in front of her.

“Get down, baby,” James said and pulled her down. “What’s your name?” he shouted at the woman.

“Elizabeth!”

“Elizabeth, hold on to Nat. Nat, don’t you dare let go of me,” James said as they got as low into the ditch as they could.” Nat knew what he was doing even if Elizabeth didn’t. James was anchoring them to the earth with his arm. 

Pulling the girl closer, trusting in inhuman technology, Natasha closed her eyes as a deafening roar filled her ears. Dear God, let it pass quickly. Too afraid to move, she heard the girl whimpering and praying, James grunted as if in pain but she couldn’t move to see what had hurt him. All she could do was hold on to that girl for all she was worth while James held on to her and the earth.

The roar became mind numbing and the girl fainted. Natasha opened her eyes and stared up at the living nightmare that was the tornado. Lightning jumped from wall to wall in the swirling mass. James using the brief respite to his advantage dug in deeper. Natasha turned her head and stared in horror. James’s arm glowed where it was exposed to the air.

“I’m OK,” he assured her and planted a quick kiss on her nose.

Natasha clutched the girl tighter as the monster snarled its warning and resumed its assault on Potter. 

The tornado continued its march into Kansas and Missouri leaving a wicked path of destruction behind it. James and Natasha, once they were certain they were safe from the tornado, picked the girl up and got out of the ditch. It would be a shame to survive the tornado and drown in the ditch. Holding the soaked girl in his arms, James looked around at the flattened landscape. 

“I hope they had a tornado shelter,” Natasha spoke with numb thoughtfulness.

That spurred them to run back across the road to see if there were any survivors. Where was their car? James set the girl down and found something to cover her with. Natasha was already looking through the damage that was the motel lobby. No bodies, that was good. Where did they go? Hearing a groan and creak, she found their hiding place, but it was under at least a ton of furniture and kitchen appliances. When James joined her, she asked, “Are you up for one more effort?” 

“Where are they?”

“There,” she said and pointed. “They had a storm shelter.”

James went to work moving everything that blocked the escape door. The arm didn’t get tired, but James was soaked to the skin and the rest of his body was exhausted. Natasha helped toss smaller stuff that blocked the way. She was also soaked to the skin and internally begging for something hot to drink. “I don’t guess we’ll find an IHOP right now, do you?”

James smiled. “No, I suppose not.”

“I don’t see the car,” she remarked as she crawled into the hole they had made. “We’re working to free you!” she shouted into the darkness.

“I saw half of it in a tree,” he answered. “I can imagine what the insurance company is going to say about this.”

“Not our fault,” Natasha answered as her phone rang. It was Steve. “Hello, sweetheart. Yes, we’re fine. Could use some hot coffee, and I imagine James would love a stack of pancakes after the night he’s had.” Considering it a moment, she asked, “Do you think Tony could call my insurance company for me? I’m pretty sure my car is totaled.”


	6. Sex and trucks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha buys a truck and some ropes. Steve joins them for a little while. Wish I wrote porn better.

Never let it be said Tony didn’t know how to make an appearance. Arriving at first light as Iron Man with Captain America at his side and a flying cantina full of hot food and coffee for the victims and rescuers of the tornado that had ravaged Potter, he made a public vow that Stark Industries would be providing hot food three times a day until such a time it was not needed. If they ran out, he would get more. Iron Man to the rescue.

Steve, carrying a red insulated chest of pancakes and hot coffee, took note of who wasn’t running up to the transporter. “I had two friends here, James Barnes and Natasha Romanov. Did anyone see them?”

A man looked up at him and said, “I think your friends are on the other side. They were up all night pulling people out of wreckage.”

“Thank you,” Cap replied and went looking for them. Pausing to gaze at what was left of the motel, the entire block actually, looked as if a bomb had gone off.

Tony, minus his iron man armor, the suit bearing a slight resemblance to Gort from the original Day the Earth Stood Still as it waited with the team that was passing out food to the hungry people, stopped beside him and said, “It could have been worse.”

“Yeah,” Cap agreed and continued down the sidewalk that led around the building. Tony spotted them first lying on a mattress out in the open beside one half of their car. “Dead to the world,” Cap remarked with a soft smile.

“National Enquirer would pay a fortune for this,” Tony teased, knowing his voice alone would be enough to wake Bucky. What they could afford to take off and dry in the sun, they had. “Oh why the hell not?’ he said and took a picture on his phone of the shirtless Winter Soldier sleeping with his still wearing her bra sweetheart The Black Widow. Their jeans were wet but there was no taking them off. Boots and socks were on what was left of the vette’s hood. “I believe he’s ignoring me,” Tony told Steve, vexed that anyone would ignore him.

“Brought food, Buck,” Cap finally spoke up. That turned Bucky over. Flexing his abdominal muscles, he sat up and looked for the mentioned food source. Cap grinned and handed the red chest to him. “I think we brought enough.”

“That is to be seen,” Bucky answered and unzipped the lid.

Tony, amazed that anyone could survive the destruction, looked around and asked, “Where did you weather the tornado?”

“In a ditch,” Natasha answered and turned over. Although she did not want to put the wet shirt back on, there were people about and her bra was not exactly opaque. “Coffee?”

“Starbucks,” Tony answered. Bucky handed a tall cup to her. His interest was on one of the Styrofoam trays. Taking it out of the chest, he set it in his lap and moved the chest to the space between him and Natasha. Pancakes! Opening a packet of syrup, he poured it into the lid of the tray. Repeating it with the second packet, he picked up the pancakes, folded them over and then dunked them into the syrup.

“You might not want to watch too closely,” Natasha warned as she checked to see what was edible. “It’s not pretty.”

Undaunted Bucky said, “I could say something, but I won’t.” He then shoved a mouthful of hotcakes into his mouth. 

“You know we did bring utensils,” Tony informed them. Natasha smiled and pulled a fork out of the chest for her fancy Southwest Spanish omelet complete with guacamole and sour cream. 

Cap, smiling at his friends, glanced around and asked, “Why were you in a ditch?”

“Had to free some horses,” Bucky answered with his mouth full. “It was on us before we could get back to the shelter.”

Natasha, speaking to James, said, “I thought Elizabeth’s father was going to have a heart attack.”

“Don’t blame him,” James replied and paused to swallow before continuing. “She should have called him.

‘Who’s Elizabeth?” Tony asked.

“She was with the horses,” Natasha answered. Looking up at him, she asked, “Did you call my insurance agent.”

“Oh yeah,” he answered and took a card out of his breast pocket. “Told you to call this number.” He handed the card to her. Natasha took at it and looked at the name and number scribbled on it.

“Speedy’s?” she dead panned,

“An affiliate,” Tony assured her.

Natasha didn’t know about this, but what choice did she have? “My phone is dead. Let me borrow yours,” she said and held her hand up. Speedy had better damn well be speedy or she was shooting him and Tony.

Iron Man and Captain America proved themselves heroes helping with the clean up and making sure supplies got to the needy, while Natasha dialed numbers for a new car and James slept under the tree. Some time around one he roused himself and told Nat they would have better luck getting a vehicle if they went for a truck, king cab.  
“I don’t want a truck,” Natasha told him in no uncertain terms, although her quest for a Corvette was proving futile.

“Get the truck, and when we get back I’ll get the Vette and we’ll swap.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed the back of her neck. “Come on, Baby. Daddy wants a truck.”

With chills running down her back, she growled, “You are such a bastard.”

“But you love me,” he purred into her ear and nibbled on it. “Buy Daddy a truck.”

Natasha relented with a grin on her face, but her mind was working well ahead of the present. Seeing Steve ambling gracefully towards them, she announced, “Looks like we’re getting a truck.”

“In Manhattan?” Steve asked curiously.

“I’ll find a place for it,” James promised and kissed the back of Natasha’s neck. “Thanks, babe.”

“No problem, babe.” Smiling at Steve, she said, “We have plenty of room now. Want to join us?”

The invitation surprised Steve. “Hey you guys are on vacation…”

“No, it’s OK,” James said. “Yeah sure, come as far as OKC with us. When will we get our wheels?”

“Tomorrow morning. In the mean time we spend the night at the high school, or out here in the open.”

“I’m OK with the high school,” James said and looked up at Steve.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Steve agreed.

CAPTAIN AMERICA, THE BLACK WIDOW AND THE WINTER SOLDIER SPEND THE NIGHT AT LOCAL HIGHSCHOOL with Tornado Survivors.

Picture shows Captain America surrounded by his fans, young and old. The girls think Cap is sexy

Natasha Romanov reads Dr. Seuss to kids and their dads.

The Winter Soldier treats everyone to pizza. Says it’s courtesy of Iron Man. Way to go Mr. Stark!

“That’s a big truck,” Steve observed thoughtfully, the silver king cab behemoth more truck than anyone really needed.

“It’s beautiful,” James responded gleefully. “I drive first.”

“Shotgun,” Natasha spoke up quickly before Steve forced her into the backseat. 

“My legs are longer,” Steve protested.

“There is plenty of room,” James assured him while climbing into the truck. “Are we ready to go? We need to stop somewhere and buy some clean clothes and whatnots.” Pulling out into traffic, what there was, he grinned and said, “Route 66, here we come.”

Steve actually looked out the window smiling when they passed a ranch with buffalo grazing in the pasture. Oklahoma was real pretty, not at all like he imagined. They passed through Narassa and Afton before coming to a stop at a cowboy store in Vinita. New jeans and T shirts, a pair of boots for Steve, a couple of western blouses for Natasha. 

Natasha took an interest in some of the ‘cowboy up’ supplies, particularly the different types of ropes that were for sale. She could see some use for them in the immediate future. 

After leaving the cowboy store, they found a pharmacy and bought toothbrushes, soap and deodorant. Supper was at a barbecue restaurant and not too bad. Then it was on to the Holiday Inn Express Motel, and back to WalMart for swimsuits.

Natasha in an electric pink bikini, floppy straw hat and sunglasses pretended to read a magazine while Steve and James and a group of teenagers played volleyball in the pool. CAPTAIN AMERICA VISITS VINITA. Steve and James were having fun trash talking each other and trying to out serve the other.

When the sun began its descent, Natasha decided it was time to go up stairs. It didn’t take long for the boys to notice she was missing. Trailing her back to hers and Bucky’s room, they found her in the shower washing the day off her skin.

“They have a bar downstairs,” Bucky told Steve. “We’ll hit it later on.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Steve said and closed the door behind him. He was in the room next to them.

Natasha, wearing on the towel she was using to dry her hair, stepped out of the bathroom and said, “Go shower and shave.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied with a grin thinking maybe they’d have a quick one before drinks. When he left the bathroom, clean shaven and no longer smelling of chlorine, he found her sitting naked on the bed with her collection of ropes beside her. She stood up, a smile on her face and told him to put his hands on top of his head. He never hesitated.

Natasha took her long soft rope and looped it around his neck and joined the two pieces together in the center of his breast beneath his arms. Keeping it tight, she wrapped him securely with the rope but stopped at his groin. Getting him to lie on the bed, she secured his hands over his head and tied him to the head board. Placing a clean bandana in his mouth, she finished with his legs, leaving one flat and the other bent. Then sitting beside her bound lover, she pinched his nipple while using the phone to call Steve. Would he please bring himself and some ice over?

Finding Natasha greeting him at the door in her birthday suit and Bucky bound to the bed was not what Steve had been expecting. “Oh, Nat, I don’t know….” he began awkwardly.

She gave him a look that said she was accepting no excuses. Even though he was wearing a gray T shirt, she grabbed a nipple with one hand that made him grimace while pulling his head down with the other for a kiss. Oh yes, Capt. America was a good kisser. “Strip,” she growled softly. “Oh, and set the ice bucket on the bed stand.” 

Uncapping a bottle of special lotion, she poured some into her hands and rubbed them together before sitting on the bed and taking her lover’s cock into her hands. She loved how his breathing picked up and the heat rose in his skin. She even scared him a little with her fingers.

Steve didn’t know what was exactly going on, but Natasha was in charge and she wanted him there. Sex was also involved and he was down with sex…or whatever the hell they said now days. Natasha reached into the bucket and took a chip of ice out of it and applied it to Bucky’s glistening cock. The ice melted quickly against his hot hot skin.

Natasha looked up at Steve and said, “Sit down. Let’s have some fun.” Digging back into the ice she handed him a chip and said, “Use it on his nipple.” Steve had never imagined himself sexually torturing his best friend….EVER, but this was hot. Every time the ice melted, he and Natasha would kiss each other, slow, hot and dirty right over Bucky eyes so he could see them. They upped their game by saying one of them had to have a hand on Bucky’s body at all times. 

Natasha loved the hungry look in her lover’s eyes. Every time she stroked his cock, the lust jumped in them. That she was kissing Steve made it all the more erotic. Turning her attention to Steve, she took on the role of the aggressor. Keeping to the rule that one of them had to be in constant contact with James’ body, she made Steve rest his hand on James’ left breast while she went down on Steve. What man didn’t love a blowjob? 

Steve was Capt. America, all round nice guy and super hero, but with Natasha he was a man being turned inside out. When she paused and slipped a piece of ice into her mouth, he almost yelled. But the woman was diabolical. Before he could cum, she stopped and said, “I want you to fuck me.” Already prepared she reached under the pillow and handed Steve a condom. “We have all night,” she purred and helped him put it on. 

“All night is good,” Steve answered breathlessly.

“Yes, it is,” she said and crawled over James’ body. “Steve and I are going to do it doggie style,” she explained to him while raking his heated body with her eyes. Grabbing his cock she stroked it back to a full and glorious erection. Crouching lower she ran her breasts along skin and rope until she was back at his head. Leaning close so only he could hear, she whispered, “I wonder if I can talk Steve into fucking you?” The look he gave her was not entirely friendly, but she didn’t care. “Why do you think I tied your legs the way I did?” The metal arm whirred a moment drawing a laugh out of her. Everyone knew no simple rope could hold him if he didn’t want to be held.

Steve unceremoniously rammed into her. Oh damn, that felt good. No one could accuse him of not being enthusiastic. Placing her hands on James’ hard breast, she supported herself while Steve fucked her senseless. He came with a hard grunt and fell across Natasha’s back, and for a moment James could see both of their faces. Natasha had not orgasmed, but she had not meant to.

When Steve recovered enough to lie beside them on the bed, he watched as Natasha kissed Bucky on the face, his eyelids and throat. She slipped another piece of ice into mouth and used it on Bucky’s nipples. When the ice melted she took another piece and worked her way down his body. When she got to his cock, she used ice and pressure to keep him half out of his mind with need. It wasn’t natural, but then there was nothing natural about the Russian seductress. When she was ready, she mounted him. Using James’ cock and body any way she wanted, she rode him to an incredible orgasm that had her writhing on top of him.

“Cum for me now,” she ordered softly and pinched his nipples while resuming her ride. He shattered into a million delicious pieces. After a moment of rest on top of him, she looked at Steve and said, “Untie him while I shower. We can have some drinks in the bar and then come back later for some more fun. I’ve still got a few things I want to try.” Jumping up she ran into the bathroom and closed the door behind her.

Steve left with the chore of untying his best friend, reached for the rope that bound his hands and said, “This is awkward.”

“Awkward?” Bucky almost laughed. “That woman has ideas. That ought to scare you; it does me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyman who refers to himself as a MAN owns a truck in OK and TX. It's only natural Bucky/James would want a truck.....but I agree with Nat and Steve, where will he keep it in Manhattan


	7. Claremore and Tulsa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's all about Will Rogers and saying good-bye to the past

And so another day began in Oklahoma with the spiffy new ‘tank’ headed towards Claremore. Natasha, sitting in the back seat, did not know what was so special about Claremore, but James had purchased a CD in the motel lobby and now he and Steve were laughing their butts off. 

“There are three types of men,” the two super soldiers said with the man on the CD, “the ones that learn by readin’. The few who learn by observation. The rest have to pee on the electric fence for themselves.” And the boys howled with mirth while launching into a story about the time Dum Dum and that boy from the 45th put up an electric fence. Natasha smiled out of politeness, but this was clearly a You Had to Have Been There story. 

“There are two theories about arguing with a woman, and neither work,” the man philosophied, but this time Steve glanced back at Nat with an awkward smile on his face. 

“He’s actually right,” she said without smiling. “Was that supposed to be a joke?”

James, looking in the mirror, said, “Will Rogers was famous in our time. He’s from Claremore.”

“Any kinship?’ Natasha asked Steve. 

“No, I’m pretty sure we aren’t,” he answered with a grin.

“Too bad,” she sighed and looked back out the window. Oklahoma was a pretty state. Lots of rural spaces with wide flat rivers, and then they were in Claremore, home to Will Rogers. Right off the Will Rogers Turnpike, oh and let’s not forget Rogers State University. Stepping out of the ‘tank’ Natasha looked around and found it quietly beautiful. There was even a bronze statue of Will Rogers sitting on a park bench with a newspaper in hand, but nothing was as impressive to the boys as the statue of Will riding his horse Soapy.

Lunch was buffalo burgers and onion rings for the boys and a tuna sandwich with pickle slices and unsweetened tea. They were face deep in sandwiches when a man in a sheriff’s uniform along with a deputy entered the café and made their way towards them. “See I told you it was them,” the deputy said enthusiastically.

“Steve Rogers,” the sheriff said and extended his hand, “it is an honor, sir.”

Steve stood up and accepted the hand. “Sheriff.”

“What brings you to Claremore, if I may ask?” 

“Had to come by the home of Will Rogers ,” Steve answered with a grin as if it were an inside joke between them.

“Well, we can’t have too many heroes visiting us,” the sheriff laughed. “Like Old Will said we can't all be heroes because somebody has to sit on the curb and clap as they go by.” Everyone laughed, including most of the diners and wait staff. 

The fact James, the sheriff, Steve and the deputy all knew the line and said it together just amazed Natasha. She was going to have to study the saying of Old Will more when they returned home. 

“If you would like a tour of our little town, I’ll be happy to show you around,” the sheriff generously offered.

Steve glanced back at James and then said, “We would be honored…after we finish our lunch.”

“Certainly, certainly,” the sheriff replied and stepped back. “When you get done eating, just step outside and your ride will be waiting.”

Natasha actually found herself enjoying the ride while listening to the sheriff relate tall tales from the golden age of Will Rogers. Apparently the comedian/actor was part Cherokee and got started in vaudeville doing rope tricks. People had loved his homespun wisdom at a time when there was little to laugh about in the U S. he was particularly hard on politicians.

And then it was over. They had an appointment in Tulsa with an airline because Steve had decided to fly back to New York that evening. With a couple of hours to spare they found a sports bar and grabbed a booth in the back. It was never ending nachos and cold beer. Natasha opted for a wine spritzer but the nachos were good.

After a day of nonstop gab, Steve and James acted as if they had run out of steam, but Natasha knew better. Steve was doing more than saying good-bye at the airport. He was saying good bye to what they had done last night. “Sharon would never approve,” he finally said what was on his mind. “I mean she knows about some of the stuff we did in the past...together…but I had told her…”

“It’s all right,” Natasha said and laid her hand over his. “We don’t have to tell her.” 

Steve smiled. “She means a lot to me,” he confessed. “She reminds me a lot of Peggy.”

“She’s very nice,” Natasha agreed. 

“I don’t want to cheat on her,” he concluded. “I mean she’s not like us.” 

Natasha was acutely aware of James’ silence, as was Steve. James would not look up from the beer bottle between his hands, his expression unreadable. When it came time to board the plane for New York, they walked Steve to the last checkpoint and stopped. Steve gave Natasha a big silly good-bye kiss and then turned to his friend.  
“I’ll see you back in New York,” Steve said and hugged his friend.

“Yeah, sure,” James said and slapped Steve’s back.

James watched Steve continue down the concourse towards his boarding terminal with a thoughtful expression on his face. “Let’s see if we can watch it take off,” he suddenly said to Natasha and looked around for any large window they could peer out of. There was a viewing area one flight of stairs up. Grabbing Natasha’s hand he pulled her behind him until they were standing at the window with a dozen other people.

Natasha didn’t say anything, but this was the loneliest moment of their entire trip. They could see Steve’s plane back away from the gate and roll on to the tarmac and runway. James leaned his arm against the glass, his forehead leaning against the arm, and with Natasha holding him around the waist, he watched Steve’s plane race into the darkness and climb unerringly into the sky.

“I don’t think I could stand to lose you,” he finally said and smiled down at her. Wrapping her in his strong arms, he kissed her tenderly in front of God and guests of Tulsa International.

Finding a motel not far from the airport, a nice looking Motel 6, they got a room for the night and emptied the candy machine of chips and cookies. Cokes and 7-Ups followed. Then it was playtime with Natasha wolfing down Lays Gravy and Biscuits flavored chips, while James indulged in his favorite oral fixation. Nothing like an orgasm in the middle of Cheetos Habanera flavored cheese puffs, ah but then payback was a mouthful of fizzy soda, cold fizzy soda. James put a dent in the headboard the first time her cold mouth swallowed his hot dick. They were going to have to pay room service extra when they checked out.

Fortunately there were two beds in the room, and the one they played in was not the one they slept in. Wrapped tenderly in James’ arms, Natasha closed her eyes and listened to the smooth steady beat of his heart. He was already asleep, but she didn’t mind. Actually a man passing out after good sex was a compliment to the woman. It meant he felt safe and loved, and poor James went so many years without being safe or loved. Untangling herself she lightly kissed his forehead and then leaned over to turn the night lamp off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will Rogers was the first great American comedian. He did get started in Vaudeville with a rope act. People loved him.


	8. The Boy with the Pony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James finds the present and the past are connected in a unique way

James stopped the truck in front of the house in the historic part of town. The white painted two story bed and breakfast had once belonged to a family he had called friends. He could almost see Lt. William Gardner and his wife Virginia sitting in rocking chairs on the porch. 

Getting out of the porch, he looked up at the window that had once been Lucy and Pearl’s bedroom. Natasha could see the ache in James’ eyes as he laid his hands on the wrought iron gate. “Are we going to ask if they have a room available?” she asked curiously. 

A woman came to the antique door with its glass front and stepped outside. “I know who you are,” she said and hurried off the steps. “I saw what you did up in Miami area.” Like all Okies she had called the northeastern town My am a and not Mi am ee. It was a regional thing. “Please come in. Are you looking for a room.”

James was just a little dazed and visiting the ghosts in his head, so Natasha took over. “Yes, have you a room available?”

“The nicest one opened up this morning. I cleaned it from top to bottom.”

Natasha fell in step beside the woman and climbed the steps at her side. She didn’t look back, confident that James was following out of habit if nothing else. Entering the sitting room, the woman named Evelyn bid them be seated while she fetched some iced tea. James automatically sat on the sofa beside Natasha, but his eyes were all over the room searching for the familiar. Beneath an enormous ivy and stacks of antique books stood an old piano. It couldn’t be! Natasha gently grabbed his arm to keep him seated. 

Evelyn returned with three large glasses of iced tea and a small plate of vanilla cookies. Natasha accepted the tea but left the homemade wafer thin cookies to James. He had them devoured in short order. “They were delicious,” he said almost apologetically. Natasha and Evelyn had been chatting about their road trip while he had pigged out on real vanilla and butter cookies like his mother used to make. Momma, he thought as a sharp pain wrenched his heart. Dear Lord, don’t let me cry.

Natasha smiled and asked, “Do you need my credit card?”

“Let me get the receipt. Yah all just stay seated. I’ll be right back.”

Evelyn scurried away; Natasha turned to James and took his hands in hers. She didn’t ask any stupid questions, but she did sense the ache in his heart. This place was real to him, a memory that was not just a dream. He was seeing people in his mind’s eye who had once been important to him. “Was the house like this when your friends lived here?”

“It was a lot simpler and poorer,” he admitted. “I can only imagine what the house I lived in looks like.”

Natasha paid for their room while James brought the luggage upstairs to Caroline’s room with a window facing the back yard. Back in those days it had been fields of tall native grass. Now they were at the back of a Walmart.

Finding James’ old house was impossible. It simply didn’t exist anymore. His old neighborhood was now a gated community, and the house that stood on the site of his old home was an expensive condominium. Natasha found them a park to visit where James lay on a picnic table and stared at the faded sky.

“I don’t know what I was expecting,” he said with a sigh.

“Closure,” she answered while resting her head on the table. “Let’s go back to our room and decide on what we are going to do next.”

“It’s time to go home,” he answered and sat up. 

“Now?” 

He smiled at his life’s love and said, “No, we’ll go back tomorrow after breakfast .”

Leaving the park to find a gas station and fill up, James pumped the gas while Natasha went inside to use the restroom. From the corner of his eye he saw someone and looked up; it was an Indian boy on a spotted pony. He stared at James a moment, a light breeze ruffling his long black hair. The boy was dressed in a mix of white and Indian clothes. After a minute the boy turned his pony and rode away. 

“Wait!” James called to the boy and hurriedly put the pump handle up. Running across the four lane to the small stand of trees where he had seen the boy and pony, he was surprised to see neither. The boy had vanished and there wasn’t even a track in the soft dirt. Confused he ran his hand through his own hair and searched the area over with his eyes. How could a boy on a pony simply disappear.

Tormented by the boy, he allowed Natasha to drive them back to the bed and breakfast. She could see something was bothering him but didn’t pry. James would tell her when he was ready. Evelyn proud of her guests buzzed them with countless questions, before James confessed the reason for their visi t to Oklahoma; he had once lived here. That the people who had once owned this house had been friends.

“The Gardners?” she asked in amazement. 

“Yes.”

“We ll then, you’ll want to see this.” Evelyn got up and went into a ground floor room before coming back with a very old photo album. May of the pictures were faded or colored burnt sienna, but they were still clear enough for James to make out the faces of his parents in a Christmas photo. Tears clouded his eyes as he turned each page of the album. He stopped suddenly when his eyes fell on a picture of a boy on a spotted pony. Being oh so very careful, he read James in a wig on an Indian pony (faded date ) A shiver ran through his body. The boy on the pony had been himself, the past coming to say good-bye. He had to close the album before he ruined the photos with his tears.

“I didn’t mean to upset him,” Evelyn apologized to Natasha.

James looked up at the woman and said, “I’ve not seen a picture of my parents since before I left for World War Two. I’m sorry.”

Evelyn creased her brow and said, “By all right then those photos are yours. Take them with you.” 

“I…I..” James stammered in shock.

“You are so generous. Thank you,” Natasha responded before James played the gallant and refused to accept them. 

That night after a fine supper and watching the sun set behind Walmart from a romantic yard swing beneath an oak tree that may have been a sapling in a young man’s memories, they retired to their room. This night sex was gentle and tender. Afterwards Natasha held her lover warmly in her arms while he clung to her, his head upon her breast, his perfect nude body pressed against hers. If they could have slept that way, she would have never let him go. 

She almost hated to say good bye to Oklahoma but they needed to get home. Loading the truck up, the precious photo album wrapped in a towel and placed under the passenger seat, James took a moment to hug their hostess and give her a kiss on the forehead. He then climbed into the driver’s seat, slipped on his fancy sunshades, found an interstate going east and drove off into the sunrise.

Epilogue

James was pretty sure it was very very early in the morning. The red blue and white lights, Steve would have loved them, belonged to a highway patrol man. Looking over at the love of his life who was watching the state trooper approach the truck, he asked, “How fast were you going?” 

“Not quite two hundred,” she answered tonelessly. “And you are Capt. America …”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Natasha drives like I do...sorta

**Author's Note:**

> reading aurora_ff's really sweet story The Other Brooklyn Boy gave me this idea. I asked if I could use her history and she graciously said yes. So I dedicate it to her.
> 
> Also I don't consider myself a good porn writer, but I do hope I engage the reader emotionally.


End file.
